


show me you can handle this

by 1000_directions



Category: Bebe Rexha (Musician), One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Established Relationship, F/M, Fictitious Middle Names, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-03
Updated: 2017-09-03
Packaged: 2018-12-23 06:44:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11984346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1000_directions/pseuds/1000_directions
Summary: “You can say no any time you want to,” Bebe says softly as Louis sits next to her on the bed. He wraps an arm around her shoulders, and she melts into him.“I know, love,” he says. “But I want to give it a go. I trust you, Beebs.”It's a whole new world for Louis and his ass.





	show me you can handle this

**Author's Note:**

> This started out as a shorter work on tumblr, thanks to an anon who prompted me to write Bebe pegging Louis. This happened instead. Thank you to alligatornyc for leaving the comment that this summary was taken from. Thank you to Alex, King of Trexha, for making me finish this. :)
> 
> This is set in a world where Louis and Eleanor didn't reunite.

Louis stares up at Bebe’s face, trying to catch his breath. He has his head resting on her stomach, his body angled awkwardly to avoid the wet spot on the bed, and they’re both panting. His cock is soft and damp against his thigh, and when he licks his lips, he can still taste her there. She never even took off her white vest, and he can just make out the impressions of her nipples through the thin material. Her tits sway up and down each time she gasps for air, and he kissed off all her lip-colour ages ago, and she looks rumpled and sweaty and wilted and fucking gorgeous.

“You look fucking gorgeous,” he tells her, and she smiles down at him.

“No way, dude,” she says breathlessly, playing with the short hairs on the back of his neck. “I’m a mess right now. You ruined me.”

“Gorgeous,” he repeats more firmly, and when she laughs, he can feel the way her stomach shakes beneath his cheek.

“You’re so dumb,” she says with a smile. “How did I fall in love with such a dumb idiot?”

“Dunno, but I’m glad you did,” he says. “Dream come true, this.”

“Pretty tame dream,” she says lightly. “Didn’t even have to dress up or anything.”

“I’m easy to please.”

“I would, you know,” she says after a pause. 

“What’s that then?”

“Dress up,” she says. “Like, you know I would if you wanted me to.”

“Rather prefer you undressed,” Louis says, walking his fingers up over the soft part of her stomach, disappearing beneath the hem of her shirt.

“I’m just saying,” she says softly. “Like, if there’s something you want to try. I don’t want you to get bored.”

“Could never get bored of you, Beebs,” he says, stroking the underside of her breast with his thumb. He can’t even imagine it. It’s only been about four months of this so far, but already, it’s easy and fun and passionate and _comfortable_ like he’s never felt with anyone else. A thought occurs to him, and he swallows hard. “You’re not… Are you bored?”

“Of course not,” she says, running her fingertips over the scruff on his chin. “But sometimes it’s fun to try new things. And I just feel like...I wanna do everything with you, Louis.”

“Like what?”

“Want you to tie me up,” she says a little too quickly. “Or you could blindfold me. I don’t know. It’s probably stupid.”

“It’s not stupid,” Louis says. 

It’s not. He’s never thought about it before, not really, but now he imagines her like that, helpless and trusting and naked and his to play with. He could spend so long between her legs, prodding at her with his tongue and pulling back when she got too excited. And she couldn’t do anything about it. He thinks about her quivering beneath him, shaking with how badly she would want to come, and he just...wouldn’t let her. And when she calmed down, he could get back to it, just tasting her, just losing himself in her cunt until he finally let her come. 

“Want you to sit on my face,” he blurts out.

“Yes,” she whispers. “Fuck, Lou. Love your mouth.”

“You could just use it,” he says. “Just hold me down and ride my tongue however you want it.”

“Okay,” she says. “Okay, yes. Definitely doing that. Fuck.”

“What else?” he asks her.

“Anything you want,” she tells him. “You could do anything you wanted to me, Louis.”

“I think I might be more traditional than you are, Bebe,” he says. His hand is fully under her shirt now, two fingers stroking at her nipple, feeling how it hardens under his attention. He loves her body. He fucking _loves_ her body, and he loves how easy it is just to play with her, to run his hands up and down her thick, perfect thighs until he finds her ticklish places, to explore the back of her neck with his mouth under he finds the softest spot to bruise her. He keeps learning her, and it’s fun. It’s never been this fun before, not with anyone.

“Did you want--” She cuts herself off to clear her throat. “Have you ever...tried anal?”

“I have not,” he says slowly. “Have...have you?”

“I have,” she says carefully. “Um, twice.”

“Did you like it?” he asks. He never, never would have asked her to do this. It’s never crossed his mind. Nice boyfriends don’t, he figured, and if nothing else, Louis Tomlinson has always tried to be a nice boyfriend. 

“I didn’t hate it,” she says. “Well, no, I kind of hated it. But I think I would like it more with you. If you wanted to try it.”

“Did it hurt?” he asks, taking his hand out from her shirt and finding her hand, holding it tight.

“A little,” she says. “I think he was in a rush. I know you’d be more gentle.”

He tries to imagine it, but unlike the previous scenario, with Bebe tied up and completely at his mercy, he can’t find any way to make this image sexy. He just...loves getting her off. Loves the way she shakes apart and floods his tongue. Can’t imagine even being able to get hard if he knew she couldn’t get off on whatever they were doing together. Not for the first time, Louis feels a small bolt of anger at the thought of someone being selfish with Bebe, _his Bebe_ , his gorgeous girlfriend who is willing to give and give so much. He’s fucking furious when he remembers there are people in her past who just _took_. 

“I don’t think I’d like doing that,” he says. It’s not worth it, the chance of making her feel like that.

“What about you?” she asks. “Anyone ever play with your ass?”

He laughs, because he thinks she’s joking, but she smiles encouragingly, and he realises she’s serious, so he stammers, “Not really my cup of tea, love,” and she shrugs. 

“If you ever want to,” she says, “you know I have a harness.”

He does, vaguely, know that she has a harness, because he vaguely knows that she swore off men for four years after a particularly shitty break up. She doesn’t like to talk about it in too much detail, but he knows there were a lot of girls in a short period of time, and then just one girl for a much longer period of time, and then it ended, and now she’s with Louis. They’d both recently got out of long relationships when they met, and they were both hesitant to try something new at the same time that they were desperate for it. They were so hungry for each other then, and they still are. 

“You know I don’t like to say no,” he says carefully. “But I don’t know if that’s really me, Beebs.”

“You know that’s fine, Lou. Whatever you want. They say it’s supposed to feel different for guys. Like, better? But,” –  she shrugs – “I wouldn’t really know, would I?”

“Oi, what’s this?” he teases. “Bleta Aphrodite Rexha, did you just admit that there’s something you don’t know?”

“That’s not my middle name,” she giggles. “And I know plenty.”

“What do you know?”

“I know you should be kissing me,” she says softly, touching his face with just the tips of her fingers. He crawls back up her body and loses himself in her mouth so easily, like he always does, and the matter is forgotten, for now.

Bebe doesn’t bring it up again, but Louis can’t stop thinking about it. He’s heard that it’s good, remembers a time long ago when Harry blathered on about it for far too long after far too many drinks, back when Louis was too much of a shit to be anything but horrified and embarrassed by the turn the conversation had taken. He wishes he could have a do-over on that night. He wants to ask Harry questions and be a different kind of friend to him, maybe more supportive, maybe less judgmental. It was a lifetime ago. He wonders what Harry would say if he texted him about it now.

“We could try,” Louis says out of nowhere one night. They’re sitting on the couch together while he tries to explain footie to her for the ten billionth time and she pretends to give a shit. She’s sitting in his lap wearing one of his t-shirts, and he can just barely see the outline of her body beneath. It’s not sexual really, he _is_ capable of spending time around her without his mind going right to sex, for fuck’s sake, but it is…sexy. She’s so fucking sexy, always.

“Try what?” she asks.

“You know,” he says, willing her to read his mind so that he doesn’t have to say it out loud, but she just frowns at him. “What we talked about before. Like…with my arse.”

“Oh, that.” She tucks her knees to her chest inside her shirt like a little kid, and he loves her fierce as anything, all at once in a way that catches him off guard. She leans her head on his shoulder, and he watches her in profile as she says, “We can do that if you want, baby.” 

“I don’t know if I'll like it,” he admits. “But I think I want to try. Just to find out.”

“We’ll go slow,” she says, “and I'll be careful. If you like it, that’s dope. And if you don’t like it, that’s dope, too, because then we know, and we’ll just do something else you do like instead.”

“How did I get so lucky to wind up with you?” he asks.

“I like rich boys,” she says with a toothy, brilliant smile. “And you, Mr. Tomlinson, are very, very rich.”

He’s on her like lightning, fingers in her armpits before she can even blink, and he’s _relentless_. She’s shrieking and laughing, and one of her legs comes out of the t-shirt to kick at him, but he grabs her around the ankle and switches tactics, tickling the bottom of her foot, kissing her heel, rubbing his beard over the more delicate skin of her arch until she’s panting and shaking.

It doesn’t come up again until they’re in the shower a few days later. He’s about to turn off the tap and step out when she places a hand on each shoulder, kisses him lightly on the lips, and whispers, “I'm gonna step out, babe, and you can meet me in the bedroom after you clean yourself real good, okay?” 

“Is there something wrong with how I usually clean?” he asks, confused. She drops a hand down his torso, tickling at his chest hair before her fingers settle on his hip.

“Just clean yourself,” she says, palming his arse and giving him a little squeeze, “ _real_ good. And then meet me in the bedroom. Got it?”

“Got it,” he mutters as she steps out. He doesn’t 100% know what she’s expecting him to do, but as comfortable as they are with each other, he doesn’t think he can ask his girlfriend the best way to clean his arse. Some things are off limits. Is he supposed to…use a finger? Is he supposed to finger his own arsehole by himself in the shower before they even get started with whatever this is?

He does the best he can and shuffles into the bedroom. He doesn’t know what he was expecting, maybe Bebe decked out in leather and metal, harsh straps and buckles everywhere. But she’s sitting in the middle of the bed naked, and she looks soft and lovely, scrubbed free of her makeup, hair curling at the ends where it’s starting to dry. She’s just his Bebe. 

“You can say no any time you want to,” she says softly as he sits next to her on the bed. He wraps an arm around her shoulders, and she melts into him.

“I know, love,” he says. “But I want to give it a go. I trust you, Beebs. Want you to rock my world.”

“I always rock your world,” she says, kissing his chest.

“Always,” he says, running a hand through her damp hair. “How do you want me then?” 

“Why don’t you just lie down on your back and let me take care of you for a bit?” she suggests, and it seems a little counterintuitive to be arse-down instead of arse-up, but he trusts her. He spreads out on the bed, and at first, she just touches him. She traces his tattoos, tugs gently on his chest hair, lightly runs one fingernail up his inner thigh and then down again. He feels himself relaxing under her hands. Bebe always knows the best way to touch him.

He isn’t expecting it when she takes his dick into her mouth, but she’s prepared with her hands on his hips, pushing him back down into the bed as he tries to thrust up. She takes her time with him, suckling on the head, letting her spit and his precome collect in her mouth as she tongues at his slit. Then she takes him deep, using her tongue to spread their slick around until she’s practically painting him with her tongue. He loses track of everything, couldn’t tell if it’s been minutes or hours or years that he’s been here on his back with Bebe’s hair tickling his thighs and her cheeky, filthy mouth swallowing him down.

He feels her hand eventually, softly stroking the root of his cock before moving to his balls. It’s a light touch, not designed to get him off, so faint he might not have even noticed it if he wasn’t highly, highly attuned to that entire area at the moment. Her hand lingers on his balls for a while, and it’s ages, it’s fucking _ages_ until he finally feels her moving lower, so softly it’s barely a whisper of a touch, but the drag of it echoes up and down his spine. He’s so on edge, the anticipation is probably going to kill him, and it’s almost a relief when he finally, finally feels her stroke one tentative finger across his hole.

“Fuck,” he exhales, and she stops what she’s doing, lets his cock spring out of her mouth so that it’s drooling on his stomach.

“Is this okay?” she asks. She’s still barely touching him, and she doesn’t move at all.

“Just feels weird,” he admits. “But it’s okay. I want you to keep going.”

“Okay,” she says softly, and she takes his dick back into her mouth, but this time, she keeps eye contact with him. So he’s looking deep, deep into her eyes when she starts petting over his hole, not making any attempt to push in, just stroking him lightly with the soft pads of her fingertips. This is okay. He can handle this. Her mouth is a furnace around his dick, and her finger down there is undoubtedly a weird feeling, but it’s not _bad_.

“You can,” he says after a minute, and he barely recognises his own voice, he’s so raspy. He licks his lips and tries again. “You can try putting it in.”

He meant her finger, but the next thing he knows, Bebe has lowered her head and is pressing just the tip of her tongue to his hole.

“Oh fuck,” he says, and his body reacts instinctively, thighs trying to close, trying to cover himself up, but her hands hold his thighs down, and he’s helpless to do anything but _feel_ it as Bebe tentatively swipes her tongue over him a few times and then eases just the tip into him. “Fuck,” he whispers again, and he doesn’t know if he wants her to stop or to keep going, and his thighs are shaking from how badly he’s trying to hold still. This is too intimate. She’s barely done anything, but it already feels like so much. He’s so scared by how much he thinks he likes it already.

“Relax,” she whispers, and he feels her breath against his skin and shudders, and then he tries to relax. She presses a kiss right to his hole, open mouthed and wet, and he whimpers. She licks over him a few more times, tongue soft and pliant and so, so wet. He feels her spit dripping down his crack, and he’s never felt so exposed in his entire life. He fucking loves it.

She’s back on his dick soon enough, her lush velvety mouth wrapped around him. He’s just trying to breathe, he’s just trying to force his lungs open so he can fucking _breathe_ , and he’s caught off guard when she gets her finger back at his hole. It’s slippery this time, a little cold, a little more insistent as she strokes at him and then slowly, slowly eases her finger inside him.

“Bebe,” he says, and he doesn’t know why he feels this way, why this is so overwhelming. He’s going to vibrate right out of his skin. Bebe wraps her free hand around his dick and keeps stroking him as she lets him fall out of her mouth.

“Is this okay, Lou?” she asks, pressing a small kiss to his cockhead. “Should I stop?”

“Don’t stop,” he says breathlessly. “Just…just keep going.” He’s never going to catch his breath again. It’s exhilarating. He starts to feel a tickle in between his eyes, but he wrinkles his nose and it goes away.

“You’re doing so good for me,” Bebe says as she starts to ease her finger in and out of him. It’s the weirdest fucking feeling. It shouldn’t feel good, but it does, and Louis doesn’t know what that means about him but he loves it.

“I love you,” he reminds her. He fucking loves her so much. He wouldn’t trust anyone else to do this with him, and he’s so fucking grateful that he found her.

“Bet you say that to every girl with a finger up your ass,” she says lightly. “And I love you, too, of course. Can you take another?”

“Please,” he says. He has no idea if he can take another, has no idea what his body is capable of, but he wants it, he _wants_ it, and a minute later, she’s easing a second finger inside of him. It’s tighter this time, the stretch more uncomfortable.

“Just keep relaxing,” she murmurs, running her thumb over the head of his dick, and he’s close to asking her to stop, it’s not working anymore, when his body just…relaxes, and she slips her fingers in deep.

“Oh, fuck,” he groans. She has two fingers in him, and she leans over and licks at his rim, right where his body is swallowing her up. This time when he shudders, she doesn’t have any free hands to hold him down and his whole body trembles. 

“Doing so good, Lou,” she says softly. “Taking me so well.” She’s wiggling her fingers now, and he’s never felt anything like it. She’s petting him from the inside, and it’s fucking wild, and then she finds a spot inside that feels like a lightning bolt to his dick, and he yelps.

“Are you okay?” she asks immediately. “Did I hurt you.”

“Do it again,” he moans brokenly. “Oh fuck, Bebe. Do it again, babe.”

She keeps her fingers moving in him, experimentally stroking his insides until she finds that spot again and he cries out. And from then on, she’s relentless, torturing and teasing him, her mouth back on his dick wet and tight as she strokes inside of him and fucking tears him apart with how good it feels. He doesn’t even realise he’s started crying until he feels his face getting wet, and it’s too late by then, he can’t stop it, doesn’t have the energy to do anything but wail as she fucking ruins him on her fingers.

“Gonna come, gonna come,” he’s chanting, and then it’s over, she twists her fingers and fucks his orgasm right out of him as he sobs, his entire body shaking apart as he spills into her mouth.

He doesn’t know how long it takes for him to come down. He’s still crying as Bebe eases her fingers out of him and crawls back up his body to gently kiss his wet face, murmuring, “You were so good, Louis, that was so fucking hot.”

“What the fuck,” he whispers. “I loved that. How did you know I would love that?”

“I didn’t know,” she says. “Not for sure. But I figured it was worth a shot, right?”

“What the fuck,” he says again. “What else have I been missing out on? Is baseball a good sport? Does kale taste good?”

“We’ll give them a shot and find out,” she says with a small smile, thumbing the tears off his cheek.

“I want to get you off, but I don’t think I can even move right now,” Louis admits. “I can lick you out, but I need a few minutes first.” 

“You’re fine,” she says. “This was about you, not me.” She pauses, then says in a small voice, “Can I have a kiss, Lou?”

He hesitates for a minute, because her _mouth_ was just in his _arse_. But also…her mouth was just in his arse, and who is he to deny her anything at all after she gave him the most brilliant orgasm of his life?

“C’mere so I can snog your brains out, love,” he says, and she smiles and nestles herself against his chest, pecking at his mouth once, twice, and then parting her lips to kiss him deeper. At first, she tastes…different. But he keeps kissing her, and underneath it all, she still tastes like herself. Still tastes like his Bebe.

“I'm fucking crazy about you,” she whispers. He knows. He _knows_.

“How did I get so lucky to wind up with you?” he asks her for the millionth time.

“You’re very rich,” she says, like always. But then she flips the script, pulling back and looking into his eyes, suddenly serious. “I'd do anything for you, Louis. You treat me so good and you don’t even know it. Pretty sure I'm the lucky one here.”

“Not a competition, love,” he says, wrapping both his arms around her. She melts against him, her body warm and soft on top of his. “Pretty sure we’re both lucky.” 

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr post](http://1000-directions.tumblr.com/post/164923211804/show-me-you-can-handle-this-by-1000directions)


End file.
